Freedom and Peace
by EndlessDaydreaming
Summary: "If I was invisible, and I could just watch you in your room. If I was invincible, I'd make you mine tonight." In honor of the Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. One-shot. Requested by Jeneshisu. Rated M just in case.


**Freedom and Peace**

**by: EndlessDaydreaming**

**as requested by: Jeneshisu**

**conditions:**

pairing – Blaise/Hermione

genre – angst

song – Invisible by Clay Aiken

_**A/N: I am accepting one-shot requests! :) Although I am not guaranteeing that I will be taking up all requests; I'll be PM-ing you if I agree to write your request. :D **_

_**After this one-shot is a Theodore/Draco request by one of my biggest fans and awesomest friends; for those of you who've read The Laws of Attraction, this will be a real treat!;)**_

* * *

**May 2, 2000**

Her sobs, soft and short, pierce at my chest like a thousand knives. The tears streaming down her closed lids tug at my heart, making me wish that I could wipe them away with my kisses. She lies entangled in her sheets, the warmth of her bed doing nothing for her shivering shoulders. Clutching a pillow as if it is was her life line, she burries her head in it to muffle her cries.

I close my eyes.

I cannot bear to watch.

I would have thought that it would be more painful to hear cries of agony, screams of hurt, and curses of loneliness spill from her quivering mouth as she choked on her tears; it appears I was mistaken, for listening to her silent cries are more painful than dying.

I shouldn't have come. The pain in my chest is unbearable; the emptiness I feel cannot be ignored any longer. I wish to feel her warmth, to run my fingers through her long hazelnut curls, to gaze into those pools of liquid sunshine and taste the lips that have been haunting my dreams.

But no matter how hard I wish, there are some things that just cannot be given to us. All I can do is stand across her room, hidden in the dead of the night, as I watch her strip away her mask of happiness. Invisible to her eyes, I watch her crumble into pieces in the solitude of her quarters.

And this, perhaps, is the most painful reality of it all: I cannot do anything about it. I cannot do anything about her pain, her sadness, her grief; all I can do is watch over her. Perhaps if I could watch over her more often, the pain that lives in me, the pain that far outweighs hers, would leave my heart; but no. I am only entitled to one night a year, one night of freedom from those that bind me; one night where I can go wherever I please.

And always, _always_, I choose to be able to watch her.

My thirst for her wellfare and happiness is insatiable. It has been two years since then, and still she is as broken as ever. It seems that she just cannot fix herself.

When one has been through a war, they are never the same. When one has witnessed the death of a loved one, they are never the same. When one has lost that which can never be found again, they are never, _ever_ the same. And this, perhaps, is why she can never be who she was when I first met her. She cannot gain her naivety back, nor can she throw away the pain that resides in her soul. There will always be clouds in her sunshine eyes, and no wind can ever blow them away.

No, she can never be the same.

But as I watch her, her hair strewn over the sheets, her skin glowing in the pale moonlight, I cannot help but think she is perfect. No matter how broken she may be, she will always be perfect to me. Even if she cannot see me, even if she does not know I exist, even if I am invisible to her – she is still perfect.

"_Mia bell'angelo, tu sei perfetta ai miei occhi," _I whisper, drowning my own silent tears in her sobs of grief. I wish to touch her, to stroke her hair and wipe her tears, but I know that I cannot. I wish to make her mine, to pick up the pieces of her heart and stay by her side.

Reality, like always, refuses to grant me my wishes.

* * *

**May 2, 2001**

I watch her stare blankly at the ceiling. It is a relief for me to see her eyes dry of tears, the room void of cries. The evening breeze from her open window brings in the scent of rain, the moonlight dancing in with it. In the silence of the room, the drops of rain echoes hypnotisingly, and I notice her eyelids drooping slowly.

I smile. For once, she is able to sleep peacefully on this date.

She turns to her side, looking at something on her bedside table. It is a picture of Harry Potter, donning black robes, together with Ginny Weasley in her white wedding dress. They both look very happy, very contented, and very much _in love_.

As _Mi Angelo_ looks at the picture, I know what she is thinking. She wishes to be like them: happily married, beautiful children, and perhaps growing old together in a wonderful family. And just like every year that I visit her, watching through the shadows of her room, the tears flow from her eyes.

And just as always, I feel my heart break even more, if that is even possible.

I wish for her to be happy. I wish for her to be happy with _me_.

But I know that I do not deserve her. She is too good for me, too beautiful for my dark soul. Nothing can pardon me from my sins, just as nothing can save the lives that I have stolen from wizards, witches, muggles, and children alike.

And just as nothing can bring back the dead, nothing can bring her into my arms. I _refuse_ to hold her with these blood-stained hands. I refuse to taint her.

But I want her. I love her. I want to tell her how much I love her, show her by worshipping her body, hold her and thank her for saving someone like me; for it is she who have shown me that there is still love in this world; goodness, kindness, and gentleness, as well. She has made me see the light in the darkness of my life.

She _is_ the light.

And it is a good thing that reality, as always, gets in the way of my wishes; because if it were to let me have my dreams, it would have been too tempting to have her in my arms, no matter how strong my convictions are with regards to not tainting her.

All I wish for her now, is to be happy. Even if I know that my wishes never come true, I whisper into the darkness: _"__Qualcun, chiunque - prego amo e farle felice.__"_

* * *

**May 2, 2002**

God must be playing a cruel joke on me. My wishes are never granted, but the one and only time that it is fulfilled, my heart shatters.

"Hermione, are you sure you're up for it today?" a voice, hungry with need, asks. He looks at her gently, his eyes like pools of mercury. He caresses her face like I always wished I could, with long, slender fingers. His pale skin glows as the moonlight prances on his broad back, and his platinum blonde locks fall across his eyes like a work of art.

I feel my hands shaking, my teeth gritting, as I stare at the boy – no, _man_. My insides feel like they are being ripped out, and I try to restrain myself from slamming my head into the wall. I cannot help the betrayal I feel and the hurt that pounds at my chest. I want to close my eyes and leave, but my eyes and legs do not listen to me. Instead, I stare at the scene before me as I once again hide myself in the shadows.

"Draco, please – I need you," _Mi Angelo_ whispers, pressing a kiss on my best friend's lips.

I know I had wished for it. I know that if there was anyone who would make her happy, it would be my best friend, Draco. But I cannot help but feel betrayed, and wish to be the one holding her and making love to her. I cannot help but feel the hatred boiling up within me for the man I call my best friend.

I cannot help it, and I hate myself even more for it. Draco deserves nothing but my support and respect for all that he has done for me. Until the very end, he had tried to be a good friend, and I acknowledge his efforts. I acknowledge and _thank_ him for his efforts, and thus I should not be hating him.

But yet, I do.

"_Vaffanculo, _Draco," I hiss, leaving the room unnoticed as always.

* * *

**May 2, 2006**

Out of my anger and cowardice, I have not visited her again for four years. I would not have visited tonight, but something inside me told me I needed to go.

I do not find her in her room. Instead, I find her in the lake outside her house, more beautiful than I have ever remembered. I have imagined seeing her like this a million times: her hair flowing across her back beautifully, her dress hugging her body like silk, her eyes shining like the sun once again. The moonlight enhances her beauty, making her glow like a goddess, like the light in the darkness.

It is only when a Ministry Official says, "Does anyone object to the binding of this witch and wizard, in love and matrinomy, through sickness and health, 'til death they will never part?"

My eyes take in the audience, the weeping parents, the flowers, the white dress – the _groom_.

_Draco Malfoy._

"No!" I shout.

I am invisible. Nobody hears me.

"You may now kiss the bride," the Official says.

"No! Hermione! No!" I scream. My throat is raw and sore, but I scream it as many times as I can. I stand in the middle of the carpeted isle, watching her have her dream moonlit wedding, and all I can do was scream and go unheard.

"Hermione! I love you! Hermione!"

I scream myself raw, until no sound can leave my throat any longer. Everything seems to go on in slow motion, taunting me, showing me something I can never have. I scream, a low, pained sound that elicts the tears from my eyes.

I am still invisible.

They kiss, and she looks..happy. A slow smile creeps into her lips as she looks at Draco lovingly.

And then I know, that I have lost.

I have lost, and will never gain.

Perhaps, this is atonement for my sins.

"_Ti amo, mi angelo,"_ I say one last time, my voice cracking, as the happy couple waves to the crowd. I turn my back on them, leaving behind the cheers and the whistles of the wedding.

I know that this will be the last time I visit her, the last time I will watch her, so I turn around again and look at her.

She is looking at me.

No – she is looking _through_ me.

I smile, because she is smiling.

She is happy, and perhaps that is all that matters.

* * *

**May 2, 2012**

I have never visited her since her wedding.

Imagine my surprise when this year, she comes to _me_ instead.__Here she is, still as beautiful as ever, wearing a light pink sweater and jeans.

Hermione smiles softly. "Blaise, I'm sorry I've never visited."

"It's fine, _Mi Angelo_," I smile and say.

"I guess I've just been...scared," she admitted, biting her lower lip. "I didn't want to admit that you were gone from my life. I spent a lot of years crying over it, and I want you to know that...no one can ever replace you. I'll always remember you, and the times we shared, and.." she takes a deep breath. "I love you," she says, her voice cracking a bit.

I walk to her, caressing her cheek just as I had always dreamed. I lean in, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. I feel as if a big burden has just left my shoulders, as if I am _free_.

I look at her, and am surprised that _she_ looks surprised – as if she could see me, and felt my kiss. She shakes her head, and it seems that the momentary surprise is gone.

"Mommy!"

She turns around, and a litle boy with pale, golden locks and shining brown eyes bounces to her.

"Hi, Scorp; come and greet Uncle Blaise," she says to the little boy, picking him up.

"Who's Uncle Blaise?" the boy asks, cocking his head to the side.

A man arrives, smiling. He puts an arm around Hermione and the little boy – his family. In his other hand are a boquet of blooming, yellow lillies. "Uncle Blaise is a dear friend of mine, Scorpius. Mommy and I love him very much," Draco says.

"Well then, where is he?" the little boy asks.

Draco smiles, ruffling the little boy's hair. He approaches me, and lays the flowers at my feet, gingerly, afraid that he would damage the flowers. He takes a few steps back, admiring the flowers.

No; he is more likely admiring my tombstone – my grave.

"Hey, mate. It's been a long time," Draco says, rubbing his hand on his nape. He is quiet for a long time, until his tears start to fall. "I-I've always blamed myself. That-That I couldn't-couldn't..save you. I tried. I d-did. But it wasn't enough. I tried to tell you to..leave the Dark Side..and join the Light. And I called for you. Tried t-to protect you. And..and I'm s-sorry."

Hermione hugs him from behind, and her tears start to fall as well. I smile at them, giving them a hug, even if they cannot see or feel me.

"Hermione?" Draco says.

"Yes?" she sniffs.

"Is it just me, or do you think..do you think that he's here?" Draco asks softly.

She hesitates, but nods. "I can feel him," she says.

"Me too," Draco concludes.

I smile at them, feeling happier than ever. Then, suddenly, I feel as if the chain keeping me prisoner here has broken. I look at my hands, and see that they are fading away. I look at Hermione and Draco, holding the hands of their son, as they leave the cemetery. I take one last look at my grave, smiling.

"_E infine, avremo la pace."_

I am free.

**Blaise M. Zabini**

**January 3, 1979 - May 2, 1998**

**~..o.~**

* * *

_**Inspired by Clay Aiken's song, Invisible. **_

_Oh-oh-ohh  
What she doin' tonight?  
I wish I could be a fly on your wall.  
Are you really alone? Who's stealing your dreams?  
Why can't I breathe you into my life?  
(So tell me) What would it take to make you see that I'm alive?_

If I was invisible  
And I could just watch you in your room  
If I was invincible  
I'd make you mine tonight  
If hearts were unbreakable  
And I could just tell you where I stand  
I would be the smartest man  
If I was invisible  
Wait, I already am

Saw your face in the crowd, I call out your name  
You don't hear a sound  
I keep tracing your steps, each move that you make  
Wish I could read what goes through your mind  
(Oh baby) Wish you could touch me with the colors of your light

_(I'd make you mine tonight) Invisible  
I reach out but you don't even feel me  
Even when I scream out  
Baby, you don't hear me (you don't hear me)  
I am nothing without you  
Just a shadow passin' through_

* * *

_**A/N: Here you go, Jeneshisu! I hope you liked it! **_

_**I hope you guys liked it as well. It's sort of a new writing style for me; I guess I'm trying to be more mature in my writing. I'm not so sure if it did come off as "more mature" and "experienced," so I'm a little bit worried..do tell me what you think and leave me a review! I would appreciate it a lot!**_

_**For Wattpad users: The Laws of Attraction (one of my DraMione completed stories here on ff) is on wattpad, under the same penname! It's entered in the Watty Awards 2012 in the Fan Fiction category, so please check it out and vote! **_


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